I heard you were a good pet. Little trouble with the wheel...

I've made a plan to go back to Hawaii. I want to finish school. Actually, I know I need to finish school. But, the thought of moving back to a place called Paradise scares the shit out of me.

I thought about going back to Champaign, which I recently found out is a viable option. But, I think that ship sailed a while ago. I would have to major in social geography at the U of I. Irrelevant as it is, the most interesting class I would be taking for 2 1/2 semesters would be "American Landscapes," which is all about the changing landscape of rural farming architecture. As much of a dork/nerd as I am, I'm having a panic attack just thinking about spending a semester staring at slides of barns.

I think I had a nightmare that looked a lot like that.

I think it was last night.

I woke up crying...

in a barn...

with a herd of angry cows...

yelling "let's see you tip us now, bitch."

Then I woke up for real.

Mental note: No more tofu before bed.

Part of me thinks it would be great to move back to Champaign for a year to just up and finish. I'm good enough. I'm smart enough. And I know not to buy anything orange this time around. The whole anaphylactic shock thing is probably my gay gene's way of getting the point across.

For a while, I thought I needed time and space away from all things Illini to deal with some kind of psychic trauma. As I was editing and rewriting my piece for Brotherhood Revisited, I remember thinking that I would be satisfied with my narrative only when I reached something like 'closure.' Of course I was just being way too dramatic. And neurotic.

There are people from my past that I'd like to get to know again. There are people I'd like to stay the hell away from. And a lot of people somewhere in between.

I doubt I'll ever forget how quickly and decisively some people turned against me. But only insofar as I know what true friends really are. Some people will throw boxes of your stuff in a dumpster just to see you fish through trash. True friends convince you that nothing is worth that. And provide a friendly reminder that you still know the combinations to every lock inside and outside of the house. Oh, the things nobody notices go missing.

But, if I were to go back to Champaign, there is the issue of money. The new FAFSA is a little distressing. I may or may not have to sign over the rights to either my first-born or a kidney, the left one, that still works.

So, the best option right now is to move back home for 2 semesters in American Studies at the University of Hawaii. Academically, it's exactly what I've wanted to do. Economically, it's the most feasible. From what I can tell, it would be about $2000 a semester in Manoa versus $15,000 at the U of I.

I started looking at all my options not too long ago. I came to the understanding that my current job was never meant to be a career or anything like a career. The restaurant has been great to me in a lot of ways. But, the fact that I've been there almost three years hit me about a week and a half ago when I waited on a family. They come in once a year to celebrate mom's birthday, and I've waited on them in one form or another the past three years. They asked if they could make a reservation for me to wait on them next year.

I got chills.

Turns out the air conditioner had kicked in and i was standing under the vent.

Nevertheless, something gave the appropriate kick and I started seriously weighing my options of going back to school.